Under the table Dealings
by wolfd890
Summary: Oneshot; A number of seemingly routine scenarios involving our favorite pigtailed protagonist lead to some eyebrow raising conclusions. Rated –R (Ranma x Nabiki), (Ranma x Kasumi), (Ranma x Yuka) SMUT
1. Chapter 1 Under the Table Dealings

**Here's a nice little 3,000 word oneshot I cooked up after watching too much Ranma and reading too many ero Doujinshi(at the same time I'm afraid). Figured I'd give this a shot because I couldn't find something similar on fanfiction, and the urge to write pure smut hit me hard today. Took about five hours to write and tweak. Inspiration for this work came from ****DanglingBits, who writes exceptional filth BTW. I highly recommend checking out his Spiderman Stories(cough, Only in Houston)**

* * *

The wind howled outside, beating furiously against the wooden protective panels covering the thin plate glass windows, rattling them in their frames. They were worn by time and the suns powerful rays, having turned silver, but still held strong against even the worst of cyclones. This was no tropical storm however.

The hallway that lined much of the Tendo residence was darkened and deserted, providing an additional barrier between the elements and the tatami clad living room beyond the paper screen doors, glowing softly from the light on the other side.

"That's some storm, ey Ranma Baby?" a female voice asked the only other occupant of the room, both of them idly watching the Television in the corner.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Sure is, Nabiki." He agreed, focusing more of his limited attention towards his Host's middle daughter. "You think Akane's gonna be okay?"

The girl rolled her eyes, grabbing one of the holiday cookies her elder sister had laid out and nibbling on the corner.

"Relax, Ranma. I'm sure she's fine. Besides, one of Akane's friends lives close to the shopping center. She's probably staying over at her place to ride out the storm."

It was odd that there had been no warning about this blizzard from the weather service, and the speed and ferocity at which the system had moved in seemed unprecedented. It had been a sunny, if crisp, late fall morning.

"Yeah" he muttered, clearly distracted.

The two were sitting on a thick quilt Nabiki had pulled out from storage, meant to lessen the cold that seeped through the far to thin floor of the old house. While not uncomfortable, there was a definite chill to the air, even with the heater on, so the teens had sequestered themselves underneath the Kotatsu, trying to warm up from the hour long frenzy of chores Kasumi had heaped on them to prepare for what could only be called a Blizzard at this point.

Ranma had worked like a mad man pulling the rattling wood panels into place, and trying to button the place up even as the snow started to blow in.

The Pigtailed Martial artist could scarcely believe that the Tendo housemaker could instill such authority on him, not to mention Nabiki. He had no doubt that she could have even had the Old freak whistling to her tune right then.

Was it bad that he hoped the old man was lying in a ditch somewhere?

'Speak of the devil' he thought, as the eldest daughter pulled open the Shoji* screen one handed, expertly balancing a tray with steaming hot tea with the other.

"Oh my" she said in that sweet voice Kasumi was known for, suddenly aware of the noise from beyond the hall . "The wind has really started to pick up, hasn't it? I do hope Father and Mr. Saotome are all right."

Now it was Ranma's turn to roll his eyes. His old man was no doubt fine. Heck, if push comes to shove, he could just turn into his Panda form. The fur was inches thick, and dense to boot. Pop and Mr. Tendo had left for a Neighborhood meeting around noon, and were, in all likelihood still there.

So no, Ranma didn't worry overly much.

From the hall, the phone rang. Kasumi quickly rose, not even allowing Ranma to play the chivalrous card and get it in her stead.

The duo returned to their previous activity, watching a bespectacled reporter getting pelted by snow and sleet flying sideways, and shouting about the storm of the century.

Across the square table, Nabiki flopped back, landing on the soft, spongy fabric. It was like laying on an old fashioned futon, she thought with a smile. Something which she'd only ever done when sleeping over at her friends.

She supposed the Saotome's favored them a lot as well, having used the guest spreads for the better part of eighteen months now. Idle thoughts of her sneaking into Ranma's room to get a fresh set of photos wormed her way into her head.

University entrance exams were drawing closer, and she'd need to worry about tuition on top of maintaining the house. Considering Ranma was the focal point of much of Nerima's, and the Tendo house specifically, property damage, she quickly gave the thought a green light.

She'd charge Kuno extra for these, because the cold weather, once you shed the thick Duvet from Ranma, had an interesting effect on the Redheads anatomy.

Of course, there had been times when she'd snuck in, before she'd dipped his finger in cold water, and found herself looking at something entirely different bulging against his blue sleeping shorts. And that something just so happened to cause a similar effect on her, despite him being engaged to her sister.

Nabiki had to admit though, the guy was easy on the eyes. Freakishly strong, too, though not overly endowed with brain power. But he got by. And besides, shed rather date someone who was sweet and honest, rather than an intelligent snake like herself. Lesser chance of getting stabbed in the back.

With Kasumi still on the phone, and feeling a little mischievous, Nabiki uncurled her long, long legs, seeking out her target, intent on getting a quick rise out of him.

Propping herself up with her elbows, she observed Ranma's easygoing, if slightly concerned features twitch in surprise as her sock clad foot made contact with his leg.

Glancing over at her, he raised an eyebrow, but quickly returned to watch the news, likely brushing it off as an unintentional stretch.

Nabiki, undeterred, inched her petite foot further and further up his leg. When she passed his knee, he tore his eyes away from the screen once more, and narrowed them at her.

She halted her advance then, momentarily, simply rubbing the well defined muscle through his Chinese pants, trying, and failing miserably, to look innocent.

But instead of going off on her, as she'd thought, Ranma kept silent. The lack of outburst surprised her, but she was nothing if not persistent. She'd get him to squawk, sooner or later. The foot rose another inch, approaching dangerous territory, but the action paid dividends, as a faint blush crept across his face.

What she didn't expect was for a bare foot to shoot out, and rest on the inside of her own thigh. He regained some confidence then, as if to say, 'two can play that game.'

The game of chicken continued unabated, inch by agonizing inch, the TV and the storm momentarily forgotten, their eyes never breaking contact. When the screen door opened again, both nearly jumped. Thankfully, a tree branch banging against the side of the house covered their reactions nicely, and Kasumi was none the wiser.

"That was Akane." The older girl supplied. "She's spending the night at Sayuri's." Kasumi reseated herself, sipping at the tea in her cup, the liquid having cooled enough as to not burn her tongue.

"T-that's great." Ranma managed to choke out, as the offending foot pushed ahead, going in for the kill. Ranma, unwilling to lose, matched the action, and received an 'eep' from the other end of the table when his toes pushed a little further than he'd wanted too, now pressed firmly against Nabiki's…He turned crimson red, heart pounding in his chest.

Kasumi tilted her head in confusion, but was soon distracted by the Television.

Across the Kotatsu, Nabiki's chest was heaving, her own face flushed. He risked a glance towards her, and when their eyes met, she sprung into action. With more dexterity than he thought possible, she pulled at the sash of his pants using only her toes, managing to undo the butterfly knot, and pulled them down.

Now it was Ranma's turn to squeak, again causing Kasumi to direct her attention towards them.

"Are you all right, Ranma?" she asked, looking concerned. Your face is all red."

"Ahh, I'm fine. It's just like that from being out in the cold, is all. Should go away in a few minutes. Ha,ha,ha."

"Hmm, if you say so."

No longer under scrutiny, he began massaging the hot spot under his toes, managing to get a twitch out of the girl across from him, but not much more.

Meanwhile, she'd somehow managed to undo the button securing the front of his boxers. Needing no prompt, the soda can diameter sized chubby he'd been nursing for the last five minutes flopped free, and, upon impacting her foot, he could see her eyebrows rise in shock.

Despite being the one whose member was swaying in the breeze, so to speak, Ranma felt he had gained the advantage, based on those wide, doe like eyes, looking at him in…anticipation?

Needing no further prompt, he grasped the edge of the table with both hands as to better support himself, and quickly untucked his other leg, the big toe hooking around the waistband of her pants, before pulling, hard.

Nabiki gasped as he striped her, panties and all, from the waist down, without so much as lifting a finger. Again, the timing worked out favorably, as a spectacular wide angle shot of the greater Tokyo area was shown on the TV. Kasumi brought a hand to her mouth, watching, and not paying attention to the frisky business happening under the Kotatsu, assuming, incorrectly, that her younger sister was simply expressing her concern at the images coming from the tube. The entirety of the Kanto region was being rapidly covered in thick, heavy snow.

Ranma bit his lip hard enough to draw blood as she shed her socks, impossibly smooth bare feet now directly rubbing his quickly hardening cock with devastating precision.

'Shit. This situation was escalating by the second!' But he wouldn't back down from this challenge. To forfeit was to lose, and Saotome's didn't lose!

She spread her bare legs, allowing Ranma's rougher, more calloused toes access to her most precious place. Despite his lack of experience, he quickly located the hard bead perched atop her rapidly moistening entrance, and rubbed it in a circular pattern that made Nabiki supress a groan of pleasure. Her pace quickened, and it felt as though her toes would spontaneously combust, his prick felt that hot.

With reason flying out the window, and breathing raggedly, Ranma slipped further under the shallow table, and, upon disengaging himself from her, slid both legs around her bare ass, using his heels of his feet to pull her crotch against his. The sudden, but not unwelcome, contact made her see little stars.

Her heart pounded so hard, she was sure that Kasumi would be able to hear it from her side of the table. But no, she was still firmly distracted by the report on the TV. Her hot, wet juices quickly coated the length of his member, as she ground into him with nearly unrestrained fervor, trying to snuff the fire that was building inside her. Ranma's nails gouged out thin furrows of clear lacquer coating the wood.

Across from him, Nabiki's face was half hidden by the table top, most of her body under the fabric skirt of the Kotatsu.

Another, almost dismissive glance towards the eldest Tendo sister showed she was still enamoured with the TV, which was describing power outages across the various wards. Normally, such information would hold Nabiki's attention with ease, but the pulsing, hot slab of meat rubbing against her snatch was doing a marvelous job of distracting her.

Ranma, meanwhile, was rapidly approaching the point of no return, he realized through his lust addled mind. Win or lose, the consequences of his impending release would cause more trouble than he wished to draw to himself. One of his hands found its way under the cover, frantically tapping Nabiki's creamy, smooth skin in an effort to get her to slow down, lest he punch a hole through the underside of the table, because it was going to be a big one.

Nabiki, a mere seconds away from her own fireworks worthy finish, retained enough of her mental faculties to know that him blowing his load all over the underside of the Kotatsu was a spectacularly bad idea, and would get them busted the second the smell of spunk wafted out from underneath it.

She wasn't, however, coherent enough to think her next move all the way through, pulling back just far enough to wrap her dainty finger around his huge dick, and push it down enough to impale herself on it a moment later.

The eight plus inches of white hot meat pierced her in one smooth motion, until he bottomed out, his cock head none to gently squashing against her cervix entrance. Convulsing, she let out a muted gurgle, hips spasming uncontrollably.

On the other side, Ranma grunted, first shocked, but the animalistic mating instinct quickly taking over, pleased that he'd get to release in the right place. Within seconds he overshot the point of self-control, his body unable to hold back, electrical signals triggering the activation of certain muscles.

First a twitch, then a powerful pulse, and the first of many thick, viscous ropes of spunk shot forth, painting the inside of Nabiki Tendo's pussy pure white. Buried up to the hilt, with the tip none to gently kissing the pencil sized hole of the donut shaped muscle, much of it shot straight into her womb.

Unseen by both Kasumi and Ranma, Nabiki's eyes rolled into the back of her head, back arching instinctively, body moving against her will to better receive his seed.

'Oh my god.' Her mind turned as white as her womb, greedily gobbling up every shot of his cum. Her head flopped to the side, a line of drool escaping her slightly parted lips.

Her sweater had ridden up to just under her breasts, the nipples perched atop them hard enough to be visible through the knit fabric if one were to look, and her exposed belly touched the underside of the table, pressed flat against it while he continued to pump what felt like gallons of cum into her.

The climax sent tingles up and down her spine, arms and legs, and she managed to whisper two words before her body went limp, the orgasm intense enough to cause her to black out.

"Ranma Baby."

The combination of getting speared by something so large, and feeling the hot spunk in her still quivering womb, had temporarily shut down her higher brain functions.

Despite the less than ideal angle, Ranma managed to stay seated, if only just. The vice like grip around his cock hadn't let up. Instead, it pulsed, as though her body was trying to milk him of every drop of cum. He heard her feet impact the underside of the table, toes curled straight, jerking up and down as she climaxed.

He focused on a spot on ceiling, the round fluorescent light fixture to be exact, but his mind's eye was imagining Nabiki, under the table, spasming violently while she wrung his cock dry. The thought was enough to let loose a few more ropes, and she jerked one more time in response.

Releasing a breath he hadn't known he was holding, the Pigtailed Martial Artist closed his eyes. That had been intense. Slowly, his brain rebooted, and with it, reality descended down on him like a bag of hammers.

Oh god, he'd just creamed his future sister in law. Heck, it was Nabiki, for crying out Christmas! Never mind the fact that they hadn't used a condom. Oh man, he was _so_ screwed.

Favoring action over thought, he groped around blindly for a few seconds, until finding her discarded clothes underneath the table, and quickly pulled her panties free from the sweat pants that should, for all intents and purposes, still be around her hips.

Feeling his dick soften, he pulled away, wincing when the head pulled out of her with a wet pop that was only somewhat muffled under the table. The action was enough for her to twitch again in post coital bliss. With a small wince, the bunched up cloth was stuffed into her gaping entrance, stretched wide by his member, effectively plugging her cum filled hole.

'Thank the maker Kasumi hadn't noticed', he thought, awkwardly pulling Nabiki fully under the table in order to put her pants back on her. The task complete, he made himself presentable and rose, trying to act natural.

Kasumi, attention drawn by the movement, observed idly as he stretched, back popping a few times.

"Hmm, looks like Nibiki chan fell asleep." He commented lazily, scratching his head. Acting had never been his forte, but somehow he managed to make it sound convincing, when in reality he'd fucked her into oblivion with nothing more than a single thrust. Inside, his subconscious was screaming 'WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?' over and over.

"Oh dear. Ranma, could you carry her up to her room?" Kasumi asked, her pretty face frowning in concern. "She shouldn't be sleeping down here. She'll catch a cold."

Ranma nodded, rounding the table and pulling the girl he'd just thoroughly soiled out by her armpits, the sweater pulling itself back down as he did so. Scooping her up, Ranma held her, bridal style, taking a second to just gaze at her angelic face. Cradling her like that, he felt another twitch from his groin, as if to say; 'you've already done it once. A few more times isn't going to hurt.' Well, that certainly was true.

"You know, she's onto something." He stated, referring to sleeping booty in his arms. With a fake yawn, he made for the door. "I think I'll have a nap too, if that's ok?"

"Of course Ranma. I'll be preparing dinner soon, so don't _sleep_ too long, alright?"

He nodded, ears picking up on the way she'd said 'sleep'.

There won't be much sleeping happening in the next few hours, he thought, plastering on a smile that hopefully looked more innocent than Cheshire in nature.

Once the door closed, Kasumi let out a long sigh, her shoulders slumping lower.

'Those hormonal kids', she thought with a shake of the head, pulling her hand out from between her legs, fingers coming away sticky and clear.

'I better take a bath.' She thought, knowing she had the time before preparing the evening's meal. Those two wouldn't be coming down searching for dinner anytime soon.

* * *

Kotatsu* low table fitted with a fabric skirt, and a heater mounted to the underside of the table top.

Shoji* Paper screen door


	2. Chapter 2 Kitchen Ambush

All was quiet in the Tendo house, the rooms and halls shrouded in the darkness of a moonless night. The loud, rhythmic, tick, tock of a wall clock in the living room marked the passage of time, and the occasional late spring breeze made the wooden post and beam structure groan softly.

The wind brought with it a sprinkling of precipitation, the droplets of water quickly evaporating from whatever surface they impacted, darkening them for but a few seconds.

Inside the upstairs guest room, a large, furry panda lay snoring atop a white bedspread, complete with an expanding and contracting bubble from its charcoal snout.

Some three feet away, a familiar pigtailed boy lay, comforter rumpled as he writhed in muted discomfort. Well, mostly muted.

"Pop, no." he whimpered, face contorting as the familiar to him dream ran its course. "Not the cat pit!"

"RAAHHHH!" the sudden scream popped the bubble, and with an angry grumble, the Panda whacked the nightmare plagued boy out the screen covered window with a wooden sign that read 'Be quiet!'

The boy sailed clear of the house, pinky and index fingers sticking from otherwise balled fists, and for what must have been the millionth time, hit the koi pond in the yard below with a mighty splash.

Sputtering in surprise, a shock of red hair broke the surface, followed by a rounder, heart shaped face, more slender shoulders, and a healthy bust that seemed to defy gravity, tucked underneath a now transparent white tank top clinging to every curve.

"Damn it Pop!" she shook her fist towards the ragged hole that used to be the window. "You couldn't have woken me normally?"

Another annoyed growl reached her ears, and finally the redhead grasped the heavy boulders lining the water feature and pulled herself out.

"Great." She muttered, uselessly wringing water from the bottom of her shirt, as if it would make a difference. "Now I gotta take another bath."

Walking around the side of the walled compound, she located the spare key for the front door underneath the door mat and let herself back in. Realizing she'd get into trouble if she dripped all over the floors, the girl quickly stripped on the tiled entry, hoping to various deities that the old lecher was sound asleep in his room, which she'd have to pass, and bundled up her sodden clothes.

With practiced ease, she soundlessly stepped on certain planks in various places along the hall to walk on, knowing where the boards creaked and where they didn't. This hadn't been the first time she'd walked around the house in the buff, but having the old man around made the experience a more perilous one.

Gooseflesh raced up and down her arms at the thought of those shrivelled up hands on her body.

Breathing a sigh of relief upon reaching the neutral ground of the outer furo, she deposited the drenched shirt and boxers in the laundry basket and snatched a white, fluffy towel from the rack by the wall.

By neutral ground, she was referring to one of the few ground rules Happosai had to follow if he wanted to remain a guest of this house. If the wording sounded familiar, it was because they were put forth by the eldest Tendo daughter, and unofficial matriarch, Kasumi Tendo.

The bath was neutral ground. One could not be accosted there, or have their privacy invaded, whilst in the bath. And somehow, without ever threatening violence, the old freak had abided by them.

That, in Ranma's opinion, made Kasumi the most respected person in the entire house.

Quickly washing up on the plastic stool in the corner, she rid herself of the pond scum and small water plant leaflets adorning her arms and legs, not to mention her hair. Urrgh. Normally she left the pigtail in place during bath time, but today she must have emerged in a particularly bad spot. Loosening the elastic on the end, she unwove the locks with her fingers, before scrubbing copious amounts of shampoo into the mass.

With a final rinse using cold water, and her nipples painfully erect from the cold, she looked forward to the hot water underneath the tub cover.

Rising, the girl gave herself a onceover in the mirror, simply because she wasn't used to seeing her girl form with the hair down. Wasting perhaps ten seconds, she posed in a semi girlish way, before the cold made her move on.

Yeah, she still had it, she grinned.

Ranma considered himself lucky that the soaker tub was full tonight. The water was changed every second day, a necessity with the amount of people using it, despite washing beforehand.

Lifting the cover off, she slipped inside, not even noting the change her-no, now his body underwent, and sighed as the warmth of the water seeped into his cold limbs.

With his body idle, the mind began to compensate. He thought back to the dream and frowned. The cat pit. The bane of his existence, more so than the curse that caused him to switch genders. He'd long ago accepted that his form was by far more preferable to those of his…acquaintances. He wouldn't call them friends.

A piglet, a cat, a duck, and a panda. He shuddered. No, Ranma got lucky. At least he could still fight in his cursed form. He'd accepted girl Ranma, or Ranko, even if he didn't like it, and strangely enough, once he did, felt a little more at peace.

But his dreams? That was a whole nother ball game. He reckoned that this latest iteration was triggered by that stray who'd crossed paths with him after school today. It was the only thing he could think of.

Figuring he'd soaked enough, and not wanting to get pruney finger tips, the statuesque teen rose, towelled off, and then wrapped the fabric around his waist. He'd have to make due with this, as his clothes were all upstairs with the big fur ball.

Stepping out of the bath, he was relieved when no one accosted him. The last few years living here had made him a bit jumpy, to say the least. Figuring he could use a little help falling back asleep, Ranma made for the kitchen, a cup of warm milk on his mind.

Not bothering with the light, he made for the fridge, and had just picked up the glass milk jug when the unmistakable coldness of a steel blade ever so gently brushed against the side of his neck.

Ranma froze. He might be good, but didn't want to tempt fate, especially with an unknown enemy holding him at knifepoint.

A very feminine hand came into view, plucking the milk jug out of his hand, and placed it on the nearby counter with a dull 'thunk'.

With his hands free, he cautiously held them up, not really wanting to see if his assailant would follow through with the implied threat, even if it wasn't verbalized.

"Tofu San, you really shouldn't be raiding the fridge this late in the night." A soft, yet chastening voice stated, and the blade was withdrawn.

Ranma relaxed, both at the identity of the knife wielder, and the fact that she was no longer threatening to sever his jugular.

"Ka-Kasumi?" he asked, turning to face her. She wore her usual night gown. Modest, conservative, and the complete opposite of his own state of dress at the moment.

Even with only the fridge light, he could tell she wasn't fully awake.

She placed what he now knew to be a large kitchen knife next to the milk, and stepped forward, until she was right in front of him. Ranma, who'd done a fair bit of growing since living here, now stood a few inches taller than the willowy girl. He quickly backed away, bumping into the still open Fridge. She followed suit, matching him step for step, before placing a delicate hand on his exposed chest.

"If you're hungry, I'd be more than happy to fix you something." She offered, even as the second hand joined her first, who was now tracing unknown patterns onto his skin.

'Oh man,' he thought, heart suddenly thundering in his chest. 'Kasumi thinks I'm Dr Tofu.'

Perhaps it was the hair? Ranma had undone the braid to get the worst of the grime from the pond out of it, and it currently hung loose, held in place at the base of his skull with a simple black elastic band.

"Woah there, Kasumi chan, pump the brakes." He tried, hoping she'd be receptive enough to input and back off. "I'm not Tofu. It's me, Ranma!"

"Silly man," she sighed, the words making no difference. She then placed the side of her head against his well defined right pectoral. At the show of intimacy, his heart did a proverbial backflip in excitement. Or perhaps it was nervousness. Akane usually chose the worst moments to make an appearance, and this would earn him the mallet ride of the century. He'd likely clear the ward boundary, depending on the vector.

But it never materialized. Instead her slender, roaming fingers brought him back to the situation at hand. She was sleep walking. He'd seen her do it before. In fact, Kasumi was notorious for it. It was her one flaw, if such a thing could even be considered that.

"H-hey now." He stuttered. "Seriously, slow down. I'm just here to get a glass of milk. Why don't you head back to bed, Kasumi chan?"

Tofu once said that waking someone who sleep walked was a recipe for disaster. They could lash out and hurt someone. Ranma had no worries about keeping himself from harm, but Kasumi chan was another matter. She was frail, if only by virtue of comparison to most people he associated with. 'Best to just get her back to bed, and to hell with the milk.' He concluded.

"An excellent idea." She lit up, pulling away, something for which he was immensely grateful for. Then she grabbed his hand. "Come along now."

"Whu? What?" he stated, not immediately picking up on her insinuation. When he did, the pigtailed teen found it surprisingly hard to disengage himself from her grip, which was deceivingly strong.

"Kasumi! Wait just a second." He hissed the last part, as she'd already managed to lead him out of the kitchen, and into the darkened hall. The odds of someone waking were rapidly shooting up, and knowing his luck, they'd accuse him of seducing poor Kasumi or something equally asinine.

She seemed perplexed for a moment, but that quickly morphed into a look he'd honestly never seen on the kind woman's features before.

Nabiki's, yes. His unscrupulous fiancées? Also yes.

It was a mischievous smirk.

"Oh, Tofu san, you deviant. You want me in the Kitchen?"

Ranma, despite being not the sharpest crayon in the box, knew exactly what she meant by that.

She let go of his hand, seductively backing away and back into the Kitchen, her hands undoing the buttons on the front of her night gown.

"Kasumi! No!" Words failed him then, as he saw the pale, cream coloured flesh of her chest, just the valley between her breasts, exposed under the now open front of her gown in the dim light of still open fridge.

He paled, ready to run, but forced himself to stop. If the lech came across her right now, those rules he'd mentioned earlier would fly right out the window. He couldn't leave her like this.

A single hesitant step forward was followed by a few more, and he was out of the hall again.

"Kasumi, for the love of god, cover up!"

She did the exact opposite, and the gown slipped from her shoulders, pooling on the floor. Something inside Ranma's mind broke then. Coherent thought failed him, as he simply gazed at her, completely nude, and posing provocatively by the counter.

A dull throb from under the towel made its presence felt, and he could honestly not blame his lower half for the reaction. That didn't mean he'd act on what could only be called an impulsive urge. He was, after all, a teenager, and apart from a single night with Nabiki, had abstained from the pleasures of the flesh.

The nearly crippling guilt from that last encounter was enough more than enough, he reminded himself.

Kasumi, completely exposed, frowned, frustrated that she'd been unable to sway him. Ranma approached, determined, and picked up her gown, before holding it out to her, eyes firmly locked with hers, and looking nowhere else.

But she had other ideas. Batting the offending garment away, she once more placed herself inside his guard, wielding her god given assets like deadly instruments.

Two impossibly soft orbs came into contact with his naked torso before he had a chance to pull away, and she firmly grasped his butt through the towel to ensure it stayed that way.

"Buahhhh…" he managed, his resolve crumbling, willpower waning.

"I have to admit, the idea of doing it here is getting me rather excited." The whispered words, so close to his ear, sent shivers up and down his back.

Before he could regain his wits and push her away, Ranma lost the towel, yanked away by Kasumi. His long, hard shaft was resting directly against her flat stomach, the swollen tip sticking out past her navel.

She giggled in amusement, before grasping _him_, and slid down, breasts dragging along his abs and thighs as she sank to her knees. Ranma wondered if he'd been wrong about the sleepwalking theory. If it had all been a ruse concocted by her, because she'd had the wherewithal to place the towel directly underneath her, padding her knees from the hard floor underneath.

That fleeting moment of clarity was to be his last, as she placed an innocent peck on his cock, before devouring the thing. She worked his shaft over with a degree of skill that put her at odds with the image she'd built for those around her.

Perhaps it was because she was an older woman, though three years shouldn't be enough to explain the…the. He grunted in pleasure as she took him nearly completely, gagging noises filling the otherwise quiet kitchen, and almost driving him over the edge.

His rough hand found her nape of her neck, the fingers sliding past her ear and into her hair, tips brushing against her scalp. Needing no prompt, she rocked her head back and forth, guided by him.

Her throat felt amazing. Completely different from her sister, though that memory was now faint enough that it was difficult to compare the two properly. Either way, he preferred this. Nabiki had been nice, but Kasumi had the more attractive build. Taller, with long, brown hair and the face of an angel. He'd never mentioned this, but Ranma had a secret preference for long haired girls. Thank goodness no one ever saw him casting the occasional glance at Akane's friends, Yuka and Sayuri.

Kasumi gurgled out a pleasured moan, the hairs at the base of his cock tickling her cute button nose. Her hand had found its way south, a pair of finger buried deep in her dripping pussy, while the other alternated between stroking Ranma's dick and pinching her left nipple. The image was enough to cause his cock to twitch in anticipation.

Before things could escalate further however, a faint creaking indicated that someone was moving about upstairs. And that unknown person was making their way downstairs.

Scrambling, Ranma pushed her away, though with no force, and shut the fridge door. Frantically, he looked around for a good hiding place, going so far as to consider the door that lead out the side yard.

Kasumi though had a solution. Pulling open the sliding door to the pantry, she motioned him inside. Kicking the towel ahead, they just made it beyond the threshold and closed the sliding door when the harsh florescent light flicked on.

Through a narrow gap, they watched. Ranma, being taller, was positioned behind her, and the tight surroundings meant her shapely rear was pressed firmly into his crotch. In fact, his throbbing hard cock was wedged between her ass cheeks, and she was grinding against him, not hard, but enough to drive him spare regardless. It was classy. Kasumi knew how to get a reaction out of him, and she acted utterly innocent while doing so. Gulping, he tried not to think about how close they just got to being discovered.

Thank goodness it wasn't Akane. Instead it was the damned Panda! Noting the milk, the glutton looked around, and promptly polished off the whole bottle.

'Typical' he thought, then froze when two fingers that didn't belong to him pushed his erection down, the head rubbing against something hot and wet.

With his back to the shelves, all he could do was keep his voice in as she pushed herself back, the white hot meat sliding into her with ease.

Watching Mr. Saotome raid the fridge, she set the pace, rocking back and forth, careful not to move to quickly, lest they cause the jars and cans of foodstuffs to jingle.

His calloused hands found their way to her hips, and he better braced himself to absorb the trusts, which were gaining power and intensity.

She shifted her legs, changing the angle, his dick hitting a different spot that made her head spin with pleasure. Her legs spread further, lowering her hips, and he scrapped against the back of her walls, until reaching…she jerked forward, and he had to catch her, lest she fall through the door and blow their cover.

Ranma slapped his hand over her mouth as she moaned, far to load. Wetness dripped down his cock, coating his balls. She was tightening around him like a vice.

The Panda's ears twitched, and he looked around, confusion evident. How Ranma had learnt to differentiate the facial expressions of a panda, he'd never know.

But regardless, pop had heard something, and it wasn't sitting well with him. 'Probably afraid he'll get busted.' Ranma grinned, the irony of the situation not lost on him.

Without loosing stride, he continued pumping her ass, holding her steady, his hands conveniently holding her slightly larger than handful breasts. Feeling mischievous, he rolled the two hard nubs between his fingers, and she let out a muffled whimper.

Finally, mercifully, the fat panda left, and they stumbled out of the pantry, still firmly connected. Having gained a little more freedom to express herself, Kasumi moaned, just loud enough to carry past the kitchen. Ranma was gently pulling her loose hair, which drove her mad.

Taking the lead, she disengaged, turning to kiss him hungrily. Their mouths crashed into each other, a bit uncoordinated at first, and he grabbed her ass and lifted her up as if it was nothing, placing her on the counter.

A second later he was back inside her, and the action was rewarded with another moan as their tongues clashed again.

They separated, panting, a thin line of saliva hanging between them.

It was dark, but not enough to prevent him from seeing her breasts jiggle with each trust, or how she bit her lip to keep from crying out load in ecstasy. He felt her already tight snatch contract once again, signalling an imminent orgasm.

'Naughty wench', he thought, increasing the pace and pounding her like a piston in a motor. Seemingly achieving the impossible, Kasumi managed to ratchet up the pressure another notch as she came.

"Hahhhhh" her voice was pure honey. She pulled him close again, riding the waves of pleasure, and kissed him with more desperation than before. More wild. Ranma was at his limit, and made to pull away, but was prevented from doing so as her legs came inward, locking him down.

"Ka-su-mi" he ground his teeth, trying to delay the inevitable for a few seconds longer.

"Inside, Ranma. Do it inside."

The pressure became overwhelming. Kissing her again, the opening salvo of a truly massive load of spunk shot forth. Holding still, his twitching member buried to the hilt, his balls emptied themselves into Kasumi.

Kasumi. Sweet, innocent Kasumi. That image was now truly and utterly shattered as he potentially impregnated her.

What felt like months' worth of potent, viscous jizz filled her like a garden hose did a water balloon. A massive backlog pushed into her, flooding her uterus, tubes and all. And she took every drop.

Cooing softly, she leaned back, chest heaving from the short, but intense love making session. He could see the sheen of sweat on her perfect breasts. Looking down, he took in her navel, a shallow indent on an otherwise taunt midriff. A light, neatly trimmed triangle of brown hair started slightly further down, until finally, he saw where they were connected, her pussy lips spread apart wide to accommodate his girth.

Pulling back, his shaft came away slick with her juices, and most likely his own as well. The length of his member rested on her stomach, slightly scrunched as she propped herself up on her elbows, and they kissed one more time.

It was more sensual than the others, but no less intimate.

The loud splat, splat, splat of his cum leaving her and hitting the floor went ignored.

"I think I need another bath." He said a short while later with a bit of humour. She chuckled, hand coming up against her mouth. "As do I. Mind if I join you?"

He shook his head, ponytail whipping back and forth. As he helped her down, Ranma did have one question.

"So, how much of before was an act?"

She tilted her head back, looking over her shoulder, before leaning down to pick up the discarded night gown.

Ranma was unable to tear his eyes away from the sight, taking particular note of a glob of his seed emerging from between her slightly swollen lips.

"That's for me to know, and you to find out." With a sway of her hips, she rounded the corner, making for the bath.

Ranma smirked, following. Looks like it was going to be another sleepless night in Nerima.


	3. Chapter 3 Gym Jamboorie

**So this was supposed to have been a little bonus blurb to what would have been the third and final chapter, which I've already finished writing. And then it ended up being just as long, lol. I think I'll release the original chapter 3 on Christmas. Call it a messed up gift from me, too you perverts, hahaha.**

**For now, please enjoy this as part of my thanksgiving mega release. ****I've updated most of my other major works at the same time, so feel free to check them out if you're so inclined.**

* * *

The shrill, high pitched sound of a referee whistle marked the end of another grueling physical education lesson for class 1-F, the sound pure music to the ears of the sweating, fatigued group of teenagers now staggering to a halt.

That is, all but one. As usual, Ranma Saotome, an average student academically speaking, brightly shone when it came to this particular class. Far stronger than even their muscular teacher, he slowed down from his cool down run, not even so much as a sheen of perspiration present on his forehead.

"Honestly Ranma, are you some sort of machine?" Daisuke asked his pigtailed friend, hands on his knees, hunched over and panting. "It's hot enough to fry eggs on the pavement, and yet somehow, you're perfectly fine!"

The boy chuckled light heartedly at his friend's indignant tone, before moving away from the running track towards the equipment they'd utilized over the course of the lesson.

On cue, the teacher hollered out instructions to the group. "All right, good hustle, class! Now get your butts off the field. You're making the place look untidy."

"Saotome, Suzuki! Clean up this mess and double time it to the showers after. Out buildings lock up in thirty minutes, so be quick about it."

Furinkan, like so many other schools, encouraged good work ethic by assigning cleanup duties to students on a weekly rotating schedule. And contrary to popular belief, Ranma didn't always get paired with Akane for these sorts of things.

"Let's get this show on the road then, eh Ranma?" The other student, Suzuki, said with enthusiasm. He smiled genuinely, before picking up a half dozen running obstacle barriers one handed.

While the others filed out, the two made for the equipment storage shed attached to the main gym hall. They'd have to make a few more trips, even with the proverbial pack mule helping her. Yes, Suzuki was a girl.

Ranma followed her into the poorly lit space, and deposited the wooden hurdle obstacles in their designated spot.

"So Yuka, summer break is coming up soon. Do you have any pla-" Before he could finish the query, a small, burgundy clad blur zipped between the two, coming from the gym hall entrance and cutting through the storage room towards the exit.

"What a haul! What a haul, bahahaha."

Eye twitching, the pig tailed martial artist suppressed the urge to run after the old creep, as he was wont to do. What he didn't foresee was for someone else to have already taken the task to heart. And while he'd normally applaud whomever tried to take the freak down a peg or two, nearly getting sliced in half was not the way to go about the task.

"Halt, you cretin!" a familiar Kendoist shouted, hot on the underwear thief's heels, swinging his trusty bokken with practiced ease.

"Damn it Kuno!" Ranma instinctively pulled back, saving his outfit by a mere hair's width. "Take it somewhere else, will ya?" he shouted after the two, who were long gone.

Turning around, he made to check on Yuka just as Kuno's handiwork began to reveal itself, her gym shirt, underlying sports bra, and red bloomers all but disintegrating before his very eyes.

Rooted to the spot, with both feet and eyes, he couldn't help but take in the sight, if only for a second, before his hand came up and covered them.

"Oh man, Yuka! Your clothes!" he lamented, not in the least prepared for the sight of his class mate clothed one second, and completely nude the next.

Yuka, meanwhile, has the wherewithal to resist the urge to scream, knowing the sound would draw unwanted attention, which was the last thing she wanted. Thankfully Ranma, gentleman that he was, turned around almost immediately following the stunning turn of events, but despite that she still tried to cover herself with nothing more than her petite hands.

Thinking quickly, he undid the black belt-like strip of cloth around his red, Chinese shirt, before pulling it off and blindly holding it out in her general direction, his head, and more importantly, eyes, still firmly pointed towards a rather interesting wall.

"Here, take this." He stammered, the blush evident on his face even to her, thanks to his suddenly red neck.

She did, quickly throwing the unusually soft garment over her smaller frame, where it hung off her like a sheet. Was this silk? She rubbed a small section with her thumb and index finger. It felt really nice on her skin. Questions for later, she reckoned. At least it hung down past her hips, covering her shapely behind, for the most part.

"T-thanks." Yuka deadpanned, shell-shocked and not sure how things had managed to go pear shaped so quickly. And her bad luck, it seemed, hadn't fully run its course, as a few seconds later the sound of excited chatter filled the gym.

Ranma, shirtless. Her, wearing nothing but his shirt. If anyone saw them, it wouldn't matter what the truth was. The Furinkan High rumor mill would grind them up and spit them out, unrecognizable. Well acquainted with what high schoolers imaginations could concoct, Ranma desperately sought a place to hide.

The room, while cluttered, didn't offer any such places. And going outside in this state was tantamount to social suicide, with classes ending in a few short minutes. They couldn't run to the change rooms either, as their classmates were still using those facilities.

His eyes roamed over their surroundings, as did Yuka's, who was clutching the front of the shirt with one hand, the other trying to push the fabric down to cover her bare pussy.

On the third pass, a half-baked plan clicked into place in her head.

"That Gymnastics vaulting box…" she muttered, studying it closer. "-aren't they hollow on the inside?"

Ranma needed no further prompt, running up to it and grabbing four tiers, before lifting them as if they were made of foam, and not hardwood.

"Quick! Get in."

She happily obliged as the previously incoherent chatter sharpened into words and sentences. Still holding the top of the trapezoidal box, he effortlessly jumped in as well, and lowered the stacked pieces back down.

And just in time, as the lights flickered on, bathing the two darkened teens in slits of harsh, fluorescent light.

"Damn, looks like they're long gone. Honestly, someone should do something about that creep!" a loud foot stomp punctuated the statement.

"In any case. Girls, time to set up for the event. Let's close these doors, in case he decides to double back." A feminine voice stated. With a creek, they were closed. The chatter continued, revolving around clothes, boys, and possibly pop music? Yuka and Ranma locked eyes. He hadn't initially realized just how cramped it was in here, his classmate most likely giving him space initially to get the pieces back on properly. Now though, they were in physical contact, whether they liked it or not.

A few minutes passed, spent in futility as they both shifted around in an attempt to get more comfortable. Finally the hard, unforgiving base of the equipment piece proved to be too much on her bare knees.

Yuka rose, as far as she was able, and turned herself around, finally falling back into his lap. The extra space afforded Ranma a chance to exfoliate his legs. And besides, she wasn't very heavy.

Both sighed in relief, though for him it was short lived as the reality of the situation set in. His class mate was sitting in his lap, her ass bare, wearing only his shirt.

"Sorry, Ranma." She whispered, heart racing at the close contact, and the fact that just a few short feet away, another group of students were pulling equipment out of storage. "But I couldn't sit like that any longer."

"Its okay" he reassured her, trying to think of anything but the cute girl sitting on him.

Nuts! Bolts! Kuno's bokken. Yeah, that's working! Kuno's bokken, which caused this whole mess. Kuno's bokken, which cut Yuka's clothes to ribbons. The bokken that nearly grazed her smooth, flawless skin, leaving her body exposed and for him to gaze upon.

The image had burned itself into his psyche. He could recall it with perfect clarity. A slender hourglass shape, with long legs that didn't seem to end, slightly flared hips, and a small patch of light brown that matched her long mane of hair.

Further up, a flat, toned stomach, with a pair of C cup breasts, by his estimate, the nipples positioned perfectly, pointing slightly up, and angled from the front. Her areola, the size of hundred yen coins, not to big, not too small, and a perfect shade of pink.

Long, light brown hair, hung loose, framing a beautiful face with a cute, button nose, and large, chocolate eyes.

Uh, oh.

Above him Yuka, who'd been peering out of their hiding spot, raised both eyebrows in surprise.

"Saotome," she squeaked, feeling something grow right beneath her fanny. "What the hell!"

He winced. "Sorry Yuka. I swear I'm not doing it on purpose."

Before she could say anything more, a new and worrisome development drew both their attention back to the situation.

"Hey Momo, can you get the vaulting box from over there?" an unseen voice asked.

Footsteps drew closer, and inside, the tension was reaching a crescendo. Ranma felt helpless. Nothing he could do would save them now. He'd be caught, with a mostly naked girl, sporting a chubby. Oh man, this time Akane's was going to kill him for sure.

Time stood still as the unknown to them girl, called Momo, moved about, a mere arm's length away.

"Ah, there it is." With a loud click they both felt more than heard, the box suddenly began moving. Rolling to be more precise.

They sighed in momentary relief, glad this version was mobile and didn't need to be disassembled in order to be moved.

But on the not so good side, they were being wheeled outside, into the gym. A gym that suddenly held far more than just a few students.

Through the finger grip slots, they saw rapidly filling stands, filled with parents and spectators. Suddenly, he remembered what event this was. It was mentioned in home room this morning.

The senior year's annual gymnastics tournament.

Momo wheeled them into place, the spot marked with blue painters tape, and locked the castors back into place.

Yuka, meanwhile revised her statement of Ranma. The guy was a pure trouble magnet, and this time he'd outdone himself.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" an enthusiastic announcer boomed, quelling the multitude of conversations in the packed bleachers.

"Welcome to the twenty-third iteration of the Furinkan Gymnastics Tournament!"

The crowd cheered and clapped, as an icy weight settled in Ranma's stomach. He took it back. Had they been caught back in the equipment room, it wouldn't have been so bad. Not good, but definitely not whatever _this_ had turned into.

"Looks like we'll have to wait this one out, Yuka." he muttered, the amount of ambient noise enough to converse normally, at least while the announcer was still blabbering.

She bit her lip, feeling his hard erection pressing into her most sensitive area. This was an absolute clusterfuck. If word got out that she was doing perverted things under the noses of over a hundred people, the scandal could more than ruin her. It would be an irremovable stain on her family.

Like Upperclassman Kuno, Yuka's family was wealthy. If the surname Suzuki sounds familiar, that's because Yuka's father was the Chief Financial Officer of the motor company bearing the same name, while her maternal grandfather was the Chief Executive officer.

Motor sport was in her blood. She regularly competed in, and won, events such as the Zen Nihon GT Senshuken, otherwise known as the Super GT, despite her young age.

Her parents allowed her an unprecedented amount of freedom. She lived alone, and attended a public school instead of a private institution, simply because she wanted real friends and didn't wish to be used as a political pawn. She liked her freedom. This situation was more than just bad. It was catastrophic.

A faint pulse from underneath reminded her of her partner in hiding. While Ranma lacked the pedigree of any suitor her family wished her to peruse, and she'd agreed to refrain from entering any serious relationships while in school, she was a red-blooded woman who, like everyone else, was driven by hormones.

And there was no doubt that Saotome was hot. Leagues ahead of anyone in their class, and even the whole junior year for that matter. He oozed masculinity, and his moral compass, or martial artist's code as he referred to it, kept him from acting like most of the guys in her class, the current situation notwithstanding.

Speaking of martial arts, he was in a league of his own when it came to that.

Yuka may be able to drive rings around her competition, but Ranma held a mastery over his body that bordered on the surreal. It made him the center of attention at school, despite trying his level best to avoid the limelight.

Thanks to his engagement to Akane, Yuka never even felt the urge to peruse him, her friendship with Akane taking precedence. Until now. She considered herself to be a good friend. It wasn't as though she'd seduced him. They just made the best of a very bad situation. And up close, confined to a hot, sweltering vaulting box with a shirtless boy, the situation was becoming very bad indeed.

Yuka's resolve was beginning to fracture.

She was getting wet, clear, sticky fluid oozing from her folds, and carrying with it pheromones that signaled that she was ready to mate. Ranma may not have paid much attention in biology, but his body, upon inhaling said pheromones, tried its level best to steer his brain into paying attention to the willing and able female sitting on him.

She slowly began grinding into him, wiggling her hips side to side, and whatever lingering fear of being discovered the pigtailed boy held, quickly evaporated like fog on a sunny morning, as his focus shifted from outside of their clever hiding place, to within.

By unspoken agreement, his hands, previously kept to himself, came up, confidently exploring her curves through his own silk shirt. Her breathing became ragged, body reacting to his ministrations. Ranma took his time, running a single finger up her side, nose brushing against her shoulder, loudly inhaling her scent, stronger than usual thanks to the PE class.

Yuka shivered, violently, his feather light touches only serving to increase the pressure inside her, until finally she had stop him, lest she have her first orgasm right then and there.

Her hands found his, instantly intertwining.

God, she was sensitive. How was he able to get this reaction out of her? Ranma was playing her like an instrument, plucking her strings not to create music, but lewd noises. She mewed loudly as he attacked her slender neck with his mouth, hands now out of commission. He licked her, tasting salty, yet sweet sweat, and suckled on the spot for a second longer, but not enough to leave a mark.

"Oh god." She had to bite her lip to keep from shouting out loud, jolts of electricity shooting through her body. Yuka was seeing stars.

This was so much better than doing it alone! She thought, pupils dilating in ecstasy. And he hadn't even… she paused that train of thought, bringing her mental faculties back from the brief but memorable sabbatical. Was she really entertaining the idea? Doing it, here and now, with her friend's fiancée of all people.

But it was a once in a lifetime opportunity. And Yuka knew how to exploit even the smallest of opportunities. That's how races were won or lost.

Still on his lap, and still facing away, she let go of his hand and tucked on the waistband of his pants, once, twice, before he realized what she was hinting at. Pushing his hips, and by extension her, up, he managed to slide them down, boxers and all.

Yuka had a rough approximation of what to expect, but seeing, in this case, was believing. She found herself straddling him, reverse cowgirl, her juices liberally coating his hot shaft in preparation for the main event.

From outside their cramped love nest, the crowd was cheering. Ranma had no idea how long these events usually lasted, but his excuse when he came back to the Tendos better be bullet proof. Something to ponder later, he mused, as Yuka fully took the initiative, raising her hips and positioning his rock hard cock vertical.

The tip, in her mind's eye, looked and felt like a splitting maul. Because that's exactly what was happening here. His huge prick was displacing her, inch by glorious inch, as she lowered herself. That was, until her sneaker slipped in a puddle of her own making, and the remaining half skewered her in one go. Yuka screamed in surprise and pleasure, the sound carrying well beyond their four wooden walls.

As luck would have it, at that exact moment a pair of chalk coated hands thumped loudly against the padded top, launching an unseen gymnast over their hiding spot, and nicely covering the sound.

Collecting herself, Yuka glanced down, past her heaving, sweat covered breasts, rock hard nipples, and at the bulge protruding from her abdomen.

Gurgling in disbelief and pleasure, she began rocking up and down, hands finding purchase in the side slots, each movement accompanied by a faint flash of light behind her closed eyes.

By the gods, sex felt amazing. She thanked her past self for preparing her for this day with toys, because pain would have tainted the experience. But there was no pain. Only delicious pressure as Ranma stretched her love tunnel far beyond the manufactures recommended tolerances. She briefly cursed her upbringing, using automotive lingo to describe their coupling.

One thing was for sure, he could always check her oil with his dipstick. In the name of preventative maintenance, of course. God she was a slut! she managed to conclude, before her higher thought processes shut down.

Ranma had flinched when the first competitor had made use of the vaulting box, but quickly recovered, and was now timing their approaches with slapping Yuka's ass when they pushed off. Within a few short minutes, both cheeks were ruby red, and radiating heat. With each slap, he could feel her drenched pussy tightening around him.

He briefly wondered how this kept happening to him, but concluded that sometimes, it was good to be Ranma Saotome.

Maybe it was because they were the same age, and she wasn't quite fully developed, but Ranma found himself bottoming out in her with every thrust, not so gently pushing into her donut shaped cervix. Little did he know that it acted like a reset button, perpetually keeping the poor girl from coming off an orgasm that started when she slipped, and was nearly skewered, by his dick.

Eventually her movements slowed, and he took the chance to rotate her around, awkwardly, to face him. Face to face, he could have sworn for a second her pupils were in the shape of hearts. Must have been his imagination, he thought, taking the opportunity to bury his face in the cleavage of her exposed chest, the Chinese shirt hanging loosely around her shoulders.

He grazed her nipple with his teeth, causing her to legs to give out, which in turn squashed her already abused womb against his cock head again.

Realizing his partner was nearly spent, he none to gently grabbed her ass and leaned forward, managing to get his knees underneath him, and depositing her on the sheet of plywood making up the bottom of the vaulting box. Legs thrown over his shoulder, he toyed with her for a few moments, rubbing his well lubricated member against her gaping, slippery entrance.

She whimpered in displeasure as he teased her, and, feeling merciful, plunged back into her, while also leaning down and delivering a not so chaste kiss.

Yuka moaned into his mouth loudly, while hers was being invaded by his tongue. Her toes curled in her sneakers as he set the pace, fast and hard.

Yet another thump from above, followed by applause suggested it would be a while yet before they could reemerge. He grinned, picturing Yuka staggering down the street tonight, unable to walk straight. Of course he wouldn't let her. Chances were he'd have to carry her home, especially if this tournament wasn't due to wrap up for another hour yet.

Yes, plenty of time to wreck her, he concluded.

She pulled him down again by his pigtail, hungrily devouring his lips, actually sucking on the lower one. He could feel her sopping wet pussy pulse again in anticipation, and the sensation was beginning to wear him down as well.

"Gonna cum soon" he warned, never slowing down, while Yuka let out a long, slow "oohhhhhh" as she came yet again.

"Outside" the brunette managed to slur, wishing now that she was on the pill. Definitely later, she thought. There was no way she could go back to fingers and toys after him.

He obliged, pulling back, his heavy prick impacting her stomach with a loud smack, and just in time.

The first spurt overshot her chest, leaving a long, thick rope on her face, right down the middle. The follow-up mostly ended up in her open mouth, which parted in surprise at the first volley. The rest sprayed her chest and stomach, with a glistening, milky line directly crossing her nipple, hardening it. A small trickle continued to ooze from the tip.

She tasted the thick, viscous discharge, curious, then licked her lips clean of the remaining cum he'd deposited there, deciding she liked it. The sight was enough for his lower half to twitch enthusiastically, and, feeling confident that he'd be able to last another round, he pulled back, and pushed his mostly cum free cock back into her folds.

"Hnnn, unbelievable. You're still not done?" Not that she minded. After all, there wasn't anything else to do in here. Her semen coated breasts jiggled tantalizingly as he picked up right where they'd left off.

Yuka continued cleaning herself with a finger, spreading the mess around on her breasts until they were evenly coated, but pulling the particularly juicy looking digit to her mouth occasionally when it accumulated enough cum. Ranma played along, dragging his finger through the mess and began feeding her.

He nearly came again when she hungrily started sucking on his finger, feeling her tongue dance around playfully, eyes locking with his.

"Seems like a waste of time if I'm just going to get you dirty again in a little bit." He quipped, as if holding a casual conversation between classes instead of screwing her brains out under the noses of a hundred people.

"Tastes good." she admitted, before running her hand down his defined chest, biting back another moan. "Maybe next time do it directly in my mouth?," she followed up with a suggestion.

"Deal" he growled, pumping into her at full speed. At this point it might happen sooner rather than later.

"Oh shit, I'm getting close again." She hissed, ignoring the announcer's byplay of a performers botched landing. Ranma held on long enough to allow her to finish, before pulling out again and pushing himself upright as far as he could in the confines of their hiding place.

Yuka, anticipating this, scooted forward, and clamped her lips around his cock head just in time for the finale. Call it payment for services rendered. And he'd certainly serviced her!

Like his first volley, the force behind his release was more than she'd anticipated. Cum, thick and hot, hit the back of her throat, shooting out both nostrils a moment later. It was too much, too fast. She couldn't keep up, until, all of a sudden, she didn't have to. Ranma unexpectedly grabbed her head and pushed, forcing the pulsing, spewing piece of meat down her gullet all. The. Way.

Warmth flooded her stomach, the thick goo coating her esophagus. She'd never done this sort of thing before, yet here she was, gagging on her classmate's still twitching dick, cum leaking from her nose with teary eyes.

Even though she just came, another follow up orgasm sprayed from her heavily abused snatch, splattering the already soiled floor of the vaulting box with more of her juices.

It was the final straw for her, eyes rolling into the back of her head. Her hands, previously death gripping his thighs, fell limply to the side.

It may have been the lack of oxygen as well.

Ranma opened his eyes, looking down at the hot mess he'd turned her into.

"Yuka?" he pulled back and allowed her to take a much need breath. Cum dribbled from the corner of her mouth and onto her tits, where there wasn't a good seal against his half hard cock, the head still nestled in her now open mouth.

Fascinated by the obscene sight, he pushed himself back into her after she took a potentially lifesaving breath, and listened to her feeble attempts at exhaling with eight plus inches of dick meat going down the other pipe.

It sounded like a wet raspberry, mixed with a rough rasp. Amused, he throat fucked her unconscious form some more, and not long after, doled out a third and final load of cum into her now bulging stomach.

With a content sigh, Ranma finally disengaged, more of his seed flowing from between Yuka's parted lips, her chin sporting a fresh glaze of baby batter, along with much of her chest. Slumping back against his side of the box, he proceeded to watch the tournament. Some of those girls were actually pretty good, but the star performer today was resting right across from him.

He wondered how much longer they'd be stuck here, and if he had enough steam left for another round.

Yuka meanwhile lay slumped against the wall, the red shirt slipping down past her shoulders, staring blankly ahead. She was covered in his spunk, and he was beginning to worry the others might catch on to the fishy smell coming from their hiding place.

The event did wrap up shortly thereafter, and when the doors finally closed, they were once more shrouded in darkness. Reasonably confident that enough time had passed, he lifted the top half off, breathing in the (relatively) fresh air of the storage room.

Ranma proceeded to lift the still unconscious girl up, and slung her over his shoulder, before grabbing his soiled pants and making for the door.

Outside, darkness had fallen, providing ample concealment for the mad dash across the grounds and into the showers. He winced at the scream of metal when he simply brute forced the lock with his bare hand, the action loud enough to wake his latest conquest.

"Ranma?" Rubbing her eyes, she looked around, understanding immediately where they were. The school showers.

"Can't turn on the lights, I'm afraid." He stated softly. "But the hot water should work." The hiss of the showerhead sounded inviting, but they waited a minute before it finally began steaming. She took off her sneakers, and the shirt, throwing them aside.

Together, they cleaned themselves under the spray of glorious, hot water, in the darkness of the communal shower, faintly illuminated by a harsh pale blue security light filtering through the tall, narrow window.

Ranma's libido made an unexpected comeback when she unexpectedly kissed him, and he took her against the white tiled wall one last time, their bodies slick with suds. And in here, Yuka could be as loud as she wanted.

"Oh gawwd, Ranmaaaa!" she shrieked, only slightly louder than the wet smacking noises her butt made against his lower abdomen.

He grunted appreciatively, hooking his arms under her shoulders, the action forcing her to arch her back, head craned skyward, directly underneath the cascading water.

His rhythm slowed, and she could feel his massive dick twitch ahead of another delivery of nut butter, which he was valiantly attempting to contain.

"Do it! Just finish in me." She sputtered from under the spray, eyes closed in ecstasy. "I don't care anymore. Just. Don't. Stop." she moaned, each word accompanied by a deep, powerful thrust. Dear god, she was so close!

He obliged, never one to turn down a good creampie. Ratcheting up the tempo, he gave her a good ten seconds before the pressure became too much. An incredible fourth, yet no less potent, deluge of semen flowed into the quivering pussy of Yuka Suzuki, the foreign sensation delivering the final blow of her own orgasm. It was a good thing Ranma held her, because moments later, her legs gave out again.

"Holy shit." She gasped, nicely summarizing how she felt about getting creampied for the first time. Ranma chuckled, turning her around for another kiss.

From her slightly spread legs, a mass of cum fell clear, splattering on the white tile, before quickly being carried away, towards the drain.

They broke the kiss, and she stared at him, long and hard.

"That was…amazing." He admitted. She nodded in agreement, a faint smile gracing her features.

In the end, he did walk her home, though she did so under her own power.

"What's this?" he asked, accepting the folded piece of paper from her, which she'd pulled from her school bag.

"My number, stud." She winked. "We should do this again sometime." The door to her apartment clicked shut, leaving him in some of Hiroshi's ill fitting gym outfit, a bag of very dirty clothes, and a girl's number in his hand.

Yes, sometimes, it really was good being Ranma Saotome.

* * *

**Pheww. The scenarios are getting more intense as I try to one up my previous content. I'm finding it difficult to write the same things in different ways. You can only describe bumping uglies in so many ways, people!**

**Shifting topics, IMO in the show and manga, Akane's friends are overlooked, as are Ranma's. I've seen very few stories that even mention them in fanfiction. This lack of known characteristics makes them perfect platforms for weaving a little bit of original backstory into the chapter. In this case, there won't be a follow up, but it's still a good exercise, not to mention fun to write about. **


	4. Chapter 4 Indiscriminate Grappling

**A/N; Happy holidays everyone! I won't bore you with a long intro, so let's get right into it.**

* * *

"H-hey, Akane?"

The raven-haired girl turned in her seat to address the voice calling her name. It was lunch hour at Furinkan High, and she was sitting at her desk, talking to Sayuri, who was in the next row over.

Standing behind her was Ukyo, the Okonomiyaki chef, in her usual work garb, a blue blouse, sleeves tied back, and black tights, with her signature oversized battle spatula and bandoleer slung over her shoulder.

Two things struck the youngest Tendo daughter as odd with the image before her. For one, Ukyo usually wore her preferred blue boys Gakuran from while attending school. The other was the rather noticeable soot mark on her left cheek, not to mention several more on her clothes now that she was getting a better look at her classmate.

"Ukyo." Akane greeted. "I didn't see you for morning roll call. Where were you?"

The brown-haired girl fidgeted with her hands, head lowered.

"Yeah, about that. Can we talk? I have a favor to ask."

Akane blinked a few times.

"What? Your restaurant burnt down?" she nearly shouted a few minutes later, causing the other girl to cringe. Beside her, a familiar pigtailed boy sporting a yellow collared shirt perked his ears up in interest.

He'd been lounging inside the frame of the open window (on the fourth floor no less), enjoying the warm breeze, and would usually ignore the conversations of his fellow classmates unless they pertained to martial arts.

This, however, was different.

"Way to shout it out to the whole class," Ukyo hissed. "And besides, the damage is contained to the downstairs eating area and kitchen. It's not like the whole building was razed."

Akane smiled apologetically, and Ranma rolled his eyes at the most unsubtle girl he ever had the misfortune of meeting.

"Anyway. I was wondering if…" she tapered off, and finally swallowed her pride. "-If I could perhaps stay with you and your family for the next few weeks while the insurance company and building contractor straighten out the place?"

One thing could not be denied. Akane did have a big heart, even if she had a short (i.e non-existent) temper. It was one of her better qualities.

"Oh, of course; it's not a problem, Ukyo." The youngest Tendo stated reassuringly. "I'll inform my dad after school today, but I'm sure he won't take any issue with it."

The relief was evident to the girl as her shoulders slumped.

"Oh, thank you, Akane. You're a lifesaver."

Ranma, meanwhile, sat down at an empty desk adjacent to the two girls, plopping his chin into his palm, elbow on the work surface. He had a bad feeling about this. If the other two members of the Fiancé brigade caught wind of this, it would be bad news bears for him.

None the less, his friend was in a pickle, and he was nothing if not supportive. To an extent at least. If he acted too chummy, Akane might get the wrong idea, as usual.

It was a calculated risk.

"Hey, Ucchan. Want me to swing by your place after school and help bring back a few things?" he offered, not really sure how else to help the poor girl out.

She focused on him, tilting her head to the side and smiling.

"That would be wonderful, Ran-chan."

"I-I'll help too." Akane piped in, eyes narrowing at him suspiciously. Ranma rolled his eyes again, wondering if doing so frequently was bad for his eyesight. Something to ask Tofu the next time he was in the clinic for serious Akane related injuries.

The trio cleared the front gate of the school that afternoon, making for the business district of Furinkan City. Not ten minutes later saw them standing in front of the modest two-story commercial building occupying a street corner, the entryway, and windows covered in yellow caution tape.

The inside was a charred, hollowed-out shell. Instead of navigating a path to the inside stairs, Ukyo led them around the back and up a set of steel stairs, producing a key that opened a door with a squeal. Both Akane and Ranma cringed at the sound.

They'd been inside Ukyo's apartment before. It was Spartan but cozy, with a few Knick knacks, an older television unit in the corner, and a bookshelf.

The young Okonomiyaki chef quickly disappeared into the adjacent bedroom, the sound of drawers opening and closing soon emanating from the slightly ajar door.

"Guys, can you empty out the refrigerator?" her disembodied voice asked from beyond the door. "The food will spoil, and this way if I bring some with me, it won't go to waste.

Akane jumped into action, leaving Ranma task-less and open to further explore her living room more thoroughly. He spotted a framed picture of him and Ukyo at the New Year's festival from last year and recalled the encounter he'd had with her.

Akane had been sick at the time, and while fleeing from Kodachi, he'd literally run into Ukyo and sent her sprawling to the ground. She'd been dressed up as a shrine maiden, as the festival was held on the temple grounds.

At the time he had no Idea she worked as a Miko for extra money. Ranma had felt bad that she was forced to work two jobs to support herself, especially when he constantly showed up to eat free food at her restaurant. Following that revelation, he'd begun paying for his meals, and tried to leave generous tips whenever possible.

The added strain to his already stretched finances meant Ranma now held a part-time job of his own. One that made good use of his superhuman strength and agility.

He worked as a food delivery boy.

It was humble work, but being able to practically fly over rooftops meant he did the same work as three regular men in half the time. A few hours on the weekend was usually enough to pay for whatever meals he'd consume during the week.

Oh, and replacement clothes lost in scuffles with the Nerima wrecking crew. Besides, it gave him an excuse to practice his favorite part of the Saotome anything goes style.

Mid-air acrobatics.

The three teens arrived just before dinner, and Ukyo was welcomed without a second thought, just as Akane had said. The portions were a bit smaller, as Kasumi was unaware she'd been joining them, but given the circumstances, no one complained, even Pop and the old Lech.

Honestly, it shocked Ranma a little, that they could feel sympathy at all. Yet alone spare food.

Sleeping arrangements that evening went as follows; Ukyo bunked up with Akane, at least for the first couple of nights. Happosai stated he was due for another trip. Where the old letch went, no one knew, and quite frankly Ranma couldn't care less.

But it meant Ukyo could make use of the main floor guest bedroom while he was gone. A girl's sleepover was fine and dandy, but it got old after a few days.

Ranma woke early the following morning, despite it being a Saturday. It was summer, and the sun was just beginning to claw its way over the many rooftops dotting Nerima Ward. With a yawn, he pulled off his sleeping clothes, ignoring the snoring form of his useless Pop, and donned a crisp, white Gi Kasumi chan had laid out for him the afternoon before.

The Dojo adjacent to the Tendo home saw a fair bit of use, be it from Akane's brick destroying tendencies or the occasional spar between Mr. Tendo and Pop. A few times it was even rented out to the various community groups around town. But practice time was not structured nor scheduled, and in this case, the age-old saying with the bird and the worm still very much applied.

There was also the fact that he generally disliked being watched while moving through the usual Katas. Not to mention that the temperature was bearable this early in the day. Any time after late morning and the heat would become oppressive, making training more of a chore than something relaxing.

Rising early may have been a pain, but it solved a lot more problems than it created.

Sliding open the door, he was enveloped by the familiar fragrance of old wood. A single deep breath put him at ease. That was, until he realized there was someone else already here.

Ranma blinked as he watched his old childhood friend fling a trio of spatulas at a training dummy she'd wrestled out from the storage shed, the sharpened cooking utensils impacting the abused wood with a trio of loud thumps.

Frustration flared for a fraction of a second upon realizing the Dojo was already in use, but he quickly snuffed the emotion after remembering why the girl was here. With an audible 'Haaa!' Ukyo roundhouse kicked a second dummy.

The kick was executed flawlessly, something his trained eye could appreciate, especially from someone like Ucchan, who heavily favored weapons in her fighting style.

Rapping on the door frame, he made his presence known. Ukyo flinched, but otherwise didn't let on that the interruption had startled her.

"Oh, good morning, Ranma honey. You're up early."

The pigtailed boy closed the sliding door, before approaching her casually. "Mornin' Ucchan." He greeted back, idly scratched the back of his head.

"Yeah, I usually exercise around this time, but well, since you're here, I figure we could spar. You up for it?"

Ukyo had to suppress her excitement at the chance for some one-on-one time with Ranma. She'd learned long ago that he disliked over the top displays of emotion. They made him suspicious, which of course he was right to be.

Ukyo may not be as aggressive as that Chinese girl Shampoo, or as persistent as the Kuno sister, but she still schemed. Out of the three, she had the best relationship with Ranma, Akane excluded of course.

But living with someone and seeing them day in and day out was hard to beat. Of course, now she had two weeks to do the same. She just needed to lay off the intensity a bit.

Silently nodding in agreement, she lifted one of the dummies, recovering the spatulas from its head before moving it aside to clear a space. Ranma did the same, and before long, they faced off in the center of the training hall.

"Let's work on improving your unarmed combat skills a little." He suggested, moving into one of his preferred fighting stances. "That kick you delivered earlier was good, but I could tell you had to force your body to obey. It should be fluid, like this;"

Replicating her move, he stepped forward, using the momentum of that single step to twist his body, spinning on his heel, and delivering a kick with practiced ease. It was fluid, organic, and something she'd seen him do countless times.

Ukyo blinked, simply appreciating him practice the art. There were few as in tune with the fighting arts as her Ranma. Not bound by one style, he instead meshed many aspects into a unique blend that held all the advantages, with none of the limitations.

He was the pinnacle of what hand to hand combat could be.

"All right, ready?" he asked. Again she nodded, perhaps clamming up a bit too much, but also not sure what else to say.

She launched towards him, opting for a simple turning kick, delivered with force, but relatively slow. Normally he'd dodge, but instead, the taller boy blocked. Most likely to gauge her power. Using perhaps half of his usual speed, he feigned a jab with the other arm that she ducked under, before disengaging with a back flip.

"Good" he praised and Ukyo forced herself to stay composed. By unspoken agreement, he attacked next with a flurry of weak but fast punches, which she'd usually block with the wide end of the large battle spatula.

Ranma had to hand it to her, the weapon made for both a good offensive tool, as well as defensive one. It was versatile, just like she was.

Out of all the Fiancé's, he respected Ukyo the most, but for different reasons than Kasumi. One couldn't deny that Ukyo had an excellent work ethic, and was very responsible. In that she was similar to the eldest Tendo sister. But she'd also experienced hardship like he had, and managed to pull herself out of poverty without any outside help. It must have been hard, but she always persevered, even now, when her Restaurant was a ruined, waterlogged shell.

She dodged and blocked, but he could tell immediately she was out of her depth, and slowed his attacks to a more manageable volume.

She relied on her Spatula too much. Without it, her combat effectiveness dropped significantly.

Lost in thought, he unintentionally let down his guard, and Ukyo exploited it too the fullest. Managing to grab his wrist, she quickly turned her body and launched the heavier boy over her shoulder in a judo-esque move, the likes of which he'd never seen her use.

His back impacted the unyielding floor with a respectable thud. Stunned, he lay there for a second, blinking a few times.

"Sugar," she said teasingly. "If we're going to spar, at least put in your usual effort, hmm."

Still on the ground, he realized she was standing over him, hands on her hips with a small smirk.

"Feh! All right, Ucchan." His expression suddenly mirroring hers, secretly impressed that she'd managed to score the first point. "But you asked for it."

Quicker than the naked eye could follow, he performed a sweeping kick while she was still within striking distance, depositing her on the floor with an exclaimed 'ufff'.

What he didn't account for was that she'd fall onto him. Now Ukyo wasn't very heavy, but she did manage to unintentionally elbow him in the stomach, making him grunt in surprise and a bit of pain.

The two ended up in a tangled heap of arms and legs, with Ukyo struggling to remove herself from on top of him. She finally managed to lift her head and chest up after a bit of squirming, only to freeze like a deer upon realizing those bright blue orbs were mere inches from her own green ones.

Her heart rate, already elevated from the workout, reached new heights at the intimacy of the position. But what overshadowed all that was the fact that she could feel a bulge growing under her lower abdomen.

She blushed furiously upon realizing what 'it' was, whist simultaneously swelling with pride for her ability to cause such a reaction.

"S-sorry, Ucchan. I didn't exactly think that one through all the way." There was a faint dusting on his cheeks also, but nowhere near the beet red complexion that she was sporting. Ranma made to extract himself, but her hands managed to find his and pin them next to his head with twin thumps as they hit the wooden floor.

She had no doubts whatsoever that Ranma could easily lift her off him, should he so chose. And yet, he hadn't. Sure, initially he was surprised, but afterwards, he'd quickly schooled his expression, settling on a pensive wait and see sort of look.

Could it be? Did she have a chance, here and now? After years of passive rejection, would she dare hope!

Leaning down, she could feel his hot breath on her. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, unlike her own heaving one. It felt like her heart was about to explode from the anticipation alone. The bandages around her chest felt tight.

She went for it.

The kiss was abrupt, clumsy, and felt a bit rushed if she was being honest. Ranma seemed to have almost expected it, and did indeed lift her one hand, placing it on his chest, before running his newly freed digits through her damp locks. Her other hand remained firmly connected with his, their fingers entwined. He pulled her down a bit more, tongue darting out to brush against her lips.

Her eyes widened at the brazen move, but she willingly opened her mouth a moment later to allow him entry completely, melting like a brick of butter on a hot day when he began exploring her mouth.

He was a far better kisser than she'd been led to believe. His tongue was running circles around her own, and the intimacy of the kiss was causing her nipples to ache underneath the tight bindings.

Coming up for air, she panted hard, scarcely believing what just happened. They'd kissed. And not just any chaste, innocent kiss. This was animalistic. Raw, lust-fueled and exciting in a way she couldn't have even put into words. It easily beat even her most naughty daydreams, when she'd close up her restaurant early on a slow day and finger herself raw upstairs in her bedroom, shouting his name.

Two years she'd been here in Nerima, and they were mere months away from graduating. All this time, fighting to gain his attention, and only after one night, they were doing _this_?

She should have burnt down her place ages ago! Ukyo inwardly exclaimed, before diving back down to sample him some more.

Through her hormone-addled mind, she managed to conclude that Ranma must have experience with the fairer sex. How he'd gained these skills, she knew not, and to be honest she might not want to know the answer to that question anyway.

What the Brunette did know was that she didn't want him to stop, as he attacked her exposed neck with kisses, nibbles, and the occasional hickey. She groaned softly at the feel of his lips on her skin, her hands roaming under his Gi, exploring the hard-packed muscles of his chest.

His own hands were, for now, on her hips as she straddled him. His erection had only gotten harder, and the bulge was now securely nestled between her spandex covered pussy lips. She'd forgone underwear, figuring no one would be up at this hour anyway. Oh how happy she was to have been wrong, the girl thought as his ministrations moved towards her collarbone, her short-sleeved blouse having come loose during their tumble.

She removed her right hand long enough to undo the sash holding it in place, and he instantly went on the offensive, exploring her slender midriff, navel, slowly moving higher and higher, until finally, fingertips brushed against the white fabric strips of the bindings.

His feather-light touch made her shiver, and simultaneously claw at his chest, leaving thin, red lines on his skin.

"Oh, Ranma honey." She bit her lip, the edge catching on her left incisor. They kissed again; she could tell he was distracted by her chest. With a mischievous grin, she sat up straight and wiggled her fingers through the layers, before parting them horizontally. Her plump, full breasts spilt out, and fell into his waiting hands.

At first, he cupped them, getting an idea at how well stacked she really was. Larger than both Kasumi and Nabiki's. Heck, they were probably on par with his own. And wasn't that an odd statement, he thought, brushing a calloused thumb over the hardened nub and making her shiver in delight.

Ukyo became more confident with each passing moment, and took the initiative, kissing him forcefully, tongues wrestling for dominance. But Ranma once again surprised her with his brazenness.

"How attached are you to those pants?" he growled the question into her ear. She squirmed a little at the husky timbre with which he'd fielded the question, but the cheeky side of her wanted to say 'very', considering they were skin tight and around her ass.

"I've got three identical pairs in my suitcase." She muttered, barely louder than a whisper. Needing no further prompt, he ran a single digit, his index finger likely, from her hip and down the side, until finally reaching her ankle.

She gasped at the truly odd sensation as they loosened, as if there was all of a sudden a zipper there. She knew Ranma was powerful, but that was an honest to god ki fueled technique, applied with laser precision to cut a single, thin layer of clothing by molding it into a razor-sharp edge, while leaving the skin underneath all but untouched. He repeated the process on her other leg, and before she knew it, the only thing still on her person was the badly arranged bandages that failed at their job of holding her large tits in place.

Ranma's hands meanwhile explored her shapely rear, the fingers sinking deep into her flesh. He'd shifted himself lower to perform the move with her pants, and now suckled on one of her erect nipples, before switching to the other.

She mewed from the attention he was lavishing her with, and at that moment in time, she considered herself the luckiest girl in all of Japan.

After a few minutes, he sat up, and Ukyo slid back down the few inches to sit in his lap, facing him.

"Last chance to turn back." He stated, his demeanor more intense than she'd ever seen in her short life.

"Not a chance, honey."

He nodded, clearly pleased. Ukyo meanwhile untied the front string of his training garb, and sucked in a surprised breath when she felt just how massive his tool felt in her petite hand. It was a good thing her pussy was soaked to its very core, because otherwise, she might have been worried about friction burn.

Pushing herself up, she used one hand to line up his prick with her dripping entrance, before easing back onto it with a moan of pleasure.

Ranma observed her, unmoving, allowing Ukyo alone to set the pace, at least initially. Her long, dark brown hair reached past her ass, and strands of it were separating from the usual bow she used to keep it hanging back, spilling over her shoulders. He moved his hand to undo the hair clip, and it came loose completely, cascading down her shoulders.

She looked perfect.

It took Ukyo a few attempts, pulling back and pushing herself down again, each time gaining more ground, before his dick was finally fully buried in her. Her arms were shaking, and he allowed himself to rub the gooseflesh there, relishing the feel of her skin. She was panting, in shock that they were actually doing _it_, here, in their host's Dojo of all places.

The moment of self-reflection passed quickly as desire took over, her body rocking back and forth, guided by primal instinct.

"Oh shi-" she bit her finger knuckle to keep herself from screaming. Ranma's hands explored some more, giving Ukyo time to adjust herself to this new development.

It was strange for him, feeling like the more experienced partner when it came to sex. But he'd resigned himself that these things just happened to him. But he could be picky with his partners. Ukyo was the first, and perhaps only Fiancé he'd willingly do this with.

From on top of him, Ukyo continued to gyrate her hips sensually, gasping each time he speared her from beneath. Their foreheads, slick with sweat, connected, noses brushing against one another, mouths parted, panting.

Slowly but steadily, the pressure behind her navel began to build, his cock hitting all of her sweet spots. She leaned back, riding him properly now, her breasts bouncing up and down, framed by the bindings, who were becoming looser by the second.

"Ranma honey" she gasped, fingertips sliding down his chest, her arms squeezing her boobs together in an erotic way that made his member twitch with appreciation.

"I'm. I'm cumin- gnnn" her announcement tapered off into a shameful moan, before the girl started to lean back even more and Ranma was forced to catch her, sitting up and just managing to wrap his arms around her before she fell back.

Her head was hanging back, curtains of hair nearly touching the floor, as her pussy pulsed repeatedly, squeezing his dick impossibly tight. Her arms hung limply to either side, and it was clear she was down and out for the count.

Ranma though was far from finished. After taking a moment to taste her sweat-slicked neck, he awkwardly managed to lift himself, and Ukyo up, walking over towards the nearest wall, still connected, before pressing the lithe girl against the vertical wooden planks, and finally pounding into her with reckless abandon. Her eyes, he noted, were open but glazed over in pleasure, a thin string of drool escaping her parted lips.

He took the opportunity to kiss her again. Below, his thrusts were making obscene squelching noises as his cock displaced the flood of juices caused by her orgasm.

The tightness, position, and her criminally smoking hot body meant that he would not be able to hold on much longer. He was approaching his limit, and fast, but needed her awake to make the call of where to finish. A single, firm slap to her shapely behind did the trick, and she came too.

"Oh kami," the brunette hissed, wrapping her arms around him and gritting her teeth, his pace never faltering.

"Gonna blow soon, Ucchan." He informed her. "Where do you want it?"

Ukyo would have loved nothing more than for him to paint her insides white and knock her up good. It would cement their bond, as she knew Ranma to be an honest and dependable guy who wouldn't dream of leaving her. But was she ready to have children? At eighteen?

The Okonomiaki chef bit her lip, struggling with the choice. It was oh so hard to concentrate, with him pumping into her like this. It felt sooo good, and her mind seemed like it was shrouded in a pleasure-filled haze. Mentally counting her progression in the monthly cycle, she concluded a creampie would definitely have a good chance of sticking.

He grunted, as if to remind her that they were on a timeline.

Scenarios, one after another, fired through her lust addled mind. Visions of a small but growing family, laughing, playing, living life. Things might be rough initially, but this is what she wanted. It was worth it.

"Do it inside." She whispered in his ear, nibbling on it. "Ruin me." She paused. "Put a baby in me."

He needed no further prompt, grunting in unspoken approval.

She felt him twitch once, twice, and then a deluge of white-hot semen saturated her to her very core, leaving no nook and cranny unfilled. Warmth flooded her deepest reaches, places she'd never known existed. Ukyo actually felt his seed splash against the back of her womb, the force imparted to the thick, viscous fluid was so great.

The experience made her cum again, her slick walls contracting to help wring every last drop of baby batter from his aching balls. Her toes curled in pleasure, the sensation threatening to consume her again.

At that exact moment in time, she was nothing more than a cum milking machine. A broodmare.

He stood there for what felt like forever, panting hard whilst holding her, still pinned to the wall, still impaled on his cock. It was finally beginning to soften, and would soon fall free, his seed spilling from her like a water-laden downspout after a downpour.

Ranma wasn't ignorant of the possible repercussions of his actions. He knew that, sooner or later, one of them would be with child. He'd expected it to be Kasumi, to be honest. She'd been so pent up that she milked him for almost a week before finally feeling sated.

But things had stagnated for him here in Nerima, and he needed to come to a decision sooner rather than later regarding this whole marriage mess. Unorthodox as though it seemed, knocking up Ukyo was one way to do just that.

Sure, he'd need to get a proper job, and he couldn't stay with the Tendo's anymore. But maybe that was a good thing. Screwing two of the three daughters, while engaged to the ignorant last, was not a good situation. Never mind that he was also doing one of her best friends.

At least with Yuka, he knew there were no strings. They were just fuck-buddies.

But sooner or later the lid would come off, and the resulting mess would be like no other he'd ever managed to find himself in.

Besides, Ukyo was a good friend. They got along, and in time, he was sure something deeper could develop between them. Even better, she didn't hit him with a mallet.

He kissed her one last time, more tenderly than before, as if to convince himself that this was the right path to the future.

"C'mon." he said with a hint of post-coital euphoria. "We should probably find you some pants before the others wake up."

She smiled radiantly, taking his hand.

She'd won the game. Two years of her life it had taken, but it was all worth it.

* * *

**Well, there you have it. The final chapter of Under the table dealings. I tried to stay in tune with the previous three chapters and not get into the overall character's relationship dynamics of the show. The way the series ended leaves much to be desired. No choice was made by the protagonist in regards to whom he was going to get hitched with.**

**By writing about one fiancé, a sort of choice was made. If he slept with all of them, it would be more than stringing them along, and in my opinion would erode his character too greatly. ****Ukyo is one of the most well rounded, and more importantly, balanced individual in the entire show, which is why I chose her.**

**As always, thanks for reading. These little chapters were a blast to write, and this one was part originally one of my Thanksgiving special, but instead released on Christmas. **


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